Innocent Blood: The 72nd Hunger Games
by AlwaysEllie
Summary: "She had innocent blood on her hands. She was no better than them". SYOT OPEN
1. Innocent Blood

**Diamond Gill**

 **46**

 **District One**

* * *

How

Do I explain myself? Everything?

Could

I have prevented it? Of course

I

Could've . Should've. I've corrupted the one thing I loved most. I am the monster. Not him. Me.

* * *

Diamond's head throbbed, pulsing painfully with every breath, every movement. At some point she had stopped trying to stop the pain. There was no point. The pain was chronic, everlasting. All she could do was lay in her bedroom for hours on end, eyes shut tightly. On some occasions, her husband would check up on her, but never do anything about the state she was in. But those were few and far between, as her dear husband was always "working".

Working.

He may as well tell the ugly truth than try to fool her with pretty lies.

Her life was in a state of migraine, constant pain, confusion, everything. That's the only way she could ever describe it.

Her mother would always tell her, "Look around. You have everything. We've worked so hard, to give you a life of luxury, yet it isn't good enough."

Diamond was fortunate, anyone could see that very clearly. And it wasn't that the life she was living wasn't good enough. It was the fact that no matter what she did, how many fur coats she owned or how many events she was invited to, she could never shake her guilt. The utter sense of horror at what she had done. To strangers, her son, her family.

Her son.

The victor.

The champion.

They didn't know, what Paxton had become. Who he had become. He was away, currently, in the Capitol, preparing for the upcoming games. He hid behind fake smiles, charming glances at the camera, and prideful statements she knew for a fact, pained him to say.

Her little boy.

She had done everything for him. Cared for him, loved him like no other. He would always be her boy. She only wanted what was best for him. To help him become what he was destined to be. Or at least, what she wanted him to be.

The migraines started the instant she saw him on the pedestal. Her little boy. Her little boy could truly face death. How had she not realized this? She always told him , _'Be safe, you don't know when your last day will be.'_

He could truly do the unthinkable. Someone else could, or in this case, would do the unthinkable. He was standing among other people's little boys and little girls. How would she have reacted if somebody ever did something like that to him?

She hadn't thought of it.

She was nothing but selfish, just selfish.

How could she?

The migraines worsened as the games went on. To her relief, her little boy remained safe. But that came with a price. She saw, other little boys and girls, murdered, slain, some at the hands of others, a few, at the hands of her own son. She was just as bad as those who designed the games. She was the reason why Paxton would drink every night and not come found for days, even weeks on end. She had caused the death of others. She may as well have been wielding the knife that was used to kill those innocent children. Her hands were covered with innocent blood.

She deserved every pang of sharp, searing pain, the hurricane inside her head.

So let it ring.

Let the memories flow.

Let the pain suffocate her until she can't think, breath.

* * *

 **Ay.**

 **So I hope you enjoyed :D**

 **Sorry that this chapter was short, I promise Chapter Two will be much more interesting. And yea, there's a serious lack of action ik.**

 **The rules and form are on my profile, so be sure to submit!**

 **Press that review button, bitch ;3**

 **Also, can you spot the Your Lie in April reference?**

 **Peace**

 **-Ellie**


	2. Satisfied

**Paxton Gill**

 **18**

 **District One, Victor of the 71st Hunger Games**

* * *

I

Always Dreamed of glory. I

Did

What I did for you. If I won,

This

Pain would go away. You would be happy again. _We_ would be happy again. Everything I did was

For

the sake of us. Our family, our future.

You

Would never be satisfied until I brought home the title of Victor.

* * *

 _And just like that it's over, we tend to our wounded, we count our dead._

* * *

It was far from over.

Winning the games meant satisfaction, pride, everything Paxton had strived for. Somehow, in some corner of his mind, it just wasn't good enough. Nothing ever seemed good enough. He himself often considered himself never good enough, inferior. Why? He was the capitol's darling. He had everything he had ever wanted. Maybe he was just selfish. It wouldn't surprise him if he was. He was just never satisfied.

With that final thought, he downed yet another shot of rum, squeezing his eyes shut, and waited.

Moments seemed like hours.

Paxton was not patient.

Especially concerning this matter.

It felt as if he were swimming through sand, aimlessly. Trying to find the satisfaction, he desperately, desperately craved. He loved and hated the waiting so much. The waiting made him reflect, it brought him even more relief when his pulse began to race and fall, all at the same time, when feelings and memories dissolved into the endless sea of sand.

* * *

 _The world turned upside down_

* * *

Memory worked mysterious ways.

It really did.

Paxton could hardly remember how he had spent the previous day, but remember with perfect detail, the stale, almost metallic taste in the air, as he stepped into his capsule. His stylist's rough, blistered hands, such hands were rare in the Capitol. everybody had different hands, dyed strange colors, tattooed, encrusted with jewels and precious metals. But their hands, they were soft. Softer than any expensive couch or shawl in District One, no matter what material, or brand, or the money it was worth. The hands of the Capitol, were delicate and smooth and smelt of pure wealth.

Nothing in particular, just wealth.

But his hands - Thaddius's hands - were rough and weathered by hard work. But somehow, Paxton wanted to caress them more than ever.

Why?

Pax struggled with that simple question. There were millions of beautiful women in Panem so why, why, did he want, of all people, to hold a man's hand.

That didn't make him gay, did it?

 _Don't worry. Fuck Thaddius and his crusty hands. You're a real man. You're the Victor of the 71st motherfucking Hunger Games. So what? You've got everything to be happy about so just let go, have a few more shots._

With that thought, Thaddius melted away into the sea of sand, like wax.

Paxton released a breath he had not known he had been holding.

"I'll have another round, please."

* * *

 **Diamond Gill**

 **46**

 **District One**

* * *

Where

is my sweet little boy.

Is

he playing in the sandbox, smiling ear to ear?

My

prince, my little angel. What ever happened to you? I'm here, speak to me. You are my

Son

damnit, speak to me. You are just a scared little boy. Reveal yourself to me, my son.

* * *

 **Yayyy another insanely short chapter -_-**

 **But seriously, I really hope you enjoyed, review, submit, go crazy!**

 **And I'm really sorry for not getting this up wayyyyyy sooner, just finals and everything and yea...**

 **Hope you enjoyed!**

 **MWAH**

 **-Ellie**


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